


The Origin of Hope.

by Dame_Dulces



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Bullying, Car Accidents, Human!Keebo, Human!Kiibo, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Inspired by Ghost in the Shell, Kidnapping, Kiibouma, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Violence, Needles, Pre-Canon, Pregame!Ouma, Psychological Torture, Robodick mention, Tickling, pregame au, pregame!kiibo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dame_Dulces/pseuds/Dame_Dulces
Summary: How K1-b0 became Kiibo, and what really happened in the few months before season 53 of Danganronpa.





	1. You don't care about anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KATastrofic222](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KATastrofic222/gifts).



> This began as a prompt from @katastroficwriter and snowballed into a multi-chapter origin fic. Still a bit rough, will come back and edit later. Not sure how long it will be, I'll keep writing until the inspiration stops. Will add tags and characters as necessary. Please, enjoy.

“Good morning, Iida-chan!”

The sleeping boy opened his eyes blearily, little patches of sunlight invading his blurred vision. Still half asleep, he could make out an outline of greasy purplish-black hair and the face of a boy who looked five years younger than he actually was.

Right. He’d slept over at Ouma-kun’s place last night. Well, sort of. He hadn’t done much sleeping.

“Ngh… what time is it…” he groaned.

“Time for you to wake up and give me attention, dummy.”

He shifted to his left side, ignoring his asinine comment.

“Too tired. Need more sleep.”

He prayed Ouma would actually fucking listen to him for once, but it was no dice. He felt the skinny boy crawl on the bed and grab his shoulders, shaking them almost violently.

“Waaaaaaaake uuuuuuuuup Iiiiiiiida-chaaaaaaaan!”

“Gaaaaaah! Let go!! You’re such a freak!”

He pushed him off with all his strength and didn’t feel bad when he hit the floor headfirst. Quickly, before Ouma could retaliate, he pulled the covers over his head and curled into a fetal position, trapping the blankets under his body in attempt to protect himself from Ouma’s wrath.

Unfortunately, this didn’t deter him as he’d hoped. Ouma climbed back on the bed, wrestling the sheets away from Iida’s pale hands and exposing his skin once more to the cold air of the bedroom.

“That hurt a lot, Iida-chan! Now I’m reeeeeally angry!”

“Serves you right! Waking people up at the ass crack of dawn when they’ve barely slept all night!”

“Waaaaaah! How could you do this to your beloved Ouma-kun? The only one who’s ever truly loved you!”

“You’re so full of shit! Grrrrraah!!”

They play fought for a bit longer. Iida-chan was certain he’d win, like he always did. He was much stronger than Ouma, and Ouma usually gave up after a few seconds anyway. This time was different, though. He had been caught off guard by the unwanted wake up call, and he was still fatigued from his restless sleep. What finally ended him was the feeling of Ouma’s tiny hands sneaking under the thin fabric of his pajamas, tickling him all over his stomach.

“Ahahahaha! FUHUHUHUHUCK! Stop!”

“Language, Iida-chan… what would the student council think if they heard their president using curse words?”

“FUCK YOUUHOOHOO!”

Iida squirmed and laughed, kicking Ouma with all his might but failing to stop his relentless attack. Every time he tried to grab his hands, they’d move somewhere else. He was one fast little fucker. Under his arms, poking his ribs, squeezing his sides. Iida was at a loss.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAD STOP! Stop, seheeheeriously!!”

Ouma finally let up, giggling nefariously seeing his friend’s condition. Iida’s face was bright red, from both lack of oxygen and embarrassment.

“Neeheehee… Iida-chan is sooooo cute… I could just eat him up!”

Iida was not amused. “Get off me, you cretin. And stop calling me cute. Freak.”

“Don’t be such a tsundere. You can let your walls down when you’re around me, you know~”

“I’ll stop when you stop acting like such a weeb.”

“Waaaaaah! So mean!”

Ouma’s fake crying had no effect on him. Finally awake, he shoved the smaller boy aside so he could get up and get ready for the long day ahead of him.

\--

“Iida-chan, can I hold your hand while we walk?”

Iida gave Ouma a disgusted look. “Hell no.”

“Awwww, why not? Aren’t we friends? Don’t you care about me?”

“I’m not holding your hand, Ouma.”

“Wooooow, I’ve been promoted! From Ouma-kun to Ouma. I could just die of happiness!”

Iida rolled his eyes. Ouma could be so damn obnoxious sometimes. Leaving off the “kun” was really just a slip of the tongue, but of course he took it farther than it needed to go. Like he always did.

Truthfully, he wouldn’t have minded holding hands. But they were walking to school, and Iida didn’t want the rest of their class to see them like that. Not when there were already rumors about them dating. He did have a reputation to uphold, after all.

Suddenly, his legs came to a halt when he heard Ouma whisper something in a hushed tone.

“Look, Iida-chan. Another missing person.”

The two of them stopped to stare at a nearby flyer posted at the bus stop. The newest one in a series of missing persons posters. There was a picture of a young girl who appeared to be in her last year of high school. She had blonde hair and lovely pink eyes, and her smile was warm and friendly. Above her head were the words MISSING in bright red. Below her photo was a short description, including her name, her age and height, where she was last seen, and what she had been wearing when she’d disappeared.

“She looks like she’s our age. I wonder if anyone knew her.”

“Yeah… she’s wearing a different uniform, though. I don’t think she goes to our school.”

An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of Iida's stomach. This was the fifth missing high school student they’d heard of in the last two weeks. The others being two boys from nearby schools, one girl from a school on the other side of the city, and one girl who was a foreign exchange student at an arts specialty school. When the first student went missing, Iida hadn’t thought much of it. People went missing every day. But when the second, third, and fourth disappeared only a few days after, that’s when the mass panic started. Not even the police had leads. The four students didn’t have any connection to one another, and there wasn’t a trace of evidence that could point to a possible culprit. It was enough to make even the stoic Iida tremble with fear.

However, he couldn’t afford to worry about it. Not when he had a million other things festering in his mind.

“Come on, Ouma. We can’t just stand here oogling all day. We’ll be late. The police will find her.”

Ouma didn’t move though. His big, gaping eyes were fixated on the missing girl’s picture.

“But what if they don’t? What if they never find them?”

Iida sighed in annoyance. He looked at his watch: 7:15. They were definitely going to be late at this rate.

“Ouma, we don’t have time to worry about this right now. We have to go.”

The shorter boy shot his light-haired friend a nasty look.

“Aren’t you even a little bit concerned? What if the next missing person is someone we know? What if it’s me?”

“If it was you, then maybe I’d finally have some peace and quiet in my life for once.”

He regretted it as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth. He saw Ouma’s eyes widen in shock. His lower lip started to quiver.

“Ouma… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“You know, sometimes I wonder if you’re even human. You don’t care about anyone else, even the people closest to you!”

“Wait, Ouma-!”

It was too late. Ouma turned around, running into the crosswalk while he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform. He hadn’t look beforehand, and Iida turned to see a large semi-truck barreling its way down the street.

“Ouma! OUMA!! LOOK OUT!!”

What happened next was like a dream. His body moved on its own, acting without bothering to wait for his mind to give orders. His legs leapt into the air with incredible speed. One second, he was on the sidewalk; the next, he was in the crosswalk, hands extended as he thrusted his body onto Ouma’s. He didn’t see where he landed. In fact, he didn’t see much at all besides a blinding white light and an inky blackness that blinded him completely. He heard various crunching sounds he assumed were his bones snapping. The splatter of thick liquid on the ground. The screeching sound of tires skidding across the pavement. He couldn’t find the words to describe the pain, couldn’t even scream.

He wondered if this was what it meant to die.

“Iida-chan? IIDA-CHAN! IIDA-CHAAAAAAAAN!”

Iida saw the faint outline of purplish-black hair before his vision faded out. He felt himself smile, despite the searing pain coursing through his body.

_I made it in time… I saved him… thank God…_


	2. You're the very first.

“Vitals… normal… heart… functioning at 81%.”

“Excellent… now in… homeostasis…”

A flurry of unfamiliar voices greeted him upon his awakening.

“Professor? Professor, look. His eyes are moving.”

“Is he… is he awake?”

“Move! _Move_! Out of my way! Let me see my son!”

He recognized that voice. The voice he’d known since the beginning.

His eyes were open, but unfocused. All he could make out were watercolor-like shapes that vaguely resembled human bodies. A blotch of brown here. A patch of white there. A dash of teal in the corner of his eye. He blinked, or at least he thought he did. He parted his lips, seeking out the only voice he knew.

“Dad?”

“My son! You’re alive! _You’re alive_!!”

He felt two strong arms around his neck. The man who had embraced him was sobbing deeply into his chest. He felt soft cotton on his skin, probably a gown of sorts, moistened by the tears of who he now knew was his father.

“Dad… where am I?”

His father didn’t answer at first, still caught in the emotion of the moment. His vision started to clear. He could see now that he was in a lab of sorts. Perhaps a hospital, or an experimental room. Perhaps both. There was a group of people surrounding him, men and women of all shapes and sizes and backgrounds. All donning white lab coats.

It finally clicked. He was in his father’s lab, the famous robotics engineer Professor Iidabashi, the one who was now draped over him and wailing like a small child in a strange twist of role reversals.

“Professor… mind his circuits…” A soft-spoken woman voiced her concern.

The man pulled away, sniffling and rubbing his eyes with his lab coat.

“My boy… I’ve waited so long for this day… you’ve finally come back to us!”

He blinked. “Where did I go?”

The man laughed half-heartedly. He pulled a tissue from his pocket, blowing his nose and wiping the remaining moisture from his cheeks.

“You were… brain dead, essentially.”

“… What?”

The professor sighed. How long had it been? He looked as if he had aged ten years. Grey and white peppered his black hair, and newly creased wrinkles wove into his forehead and draped around the corners of his mouth. The bags under his eyes were heavy, giving him the look of an old man who hadn’t slept in years.

“You were in a terrible accident. Your friend Ouma said that you pushed him out of the way of a semi-truck and were hit in the process. The impact shattered your bones, punctured your vital organs, and caused a vast amount of internal bleeding. Your body was completely torn apart. They pronounced you dead at the scene, but…”

He felt his head swirling. He… he died? So that memory was true. He remembered seeing the light, and the darkness that had followed. But what did that mean for him now?

“If I died… then where am I now? Is this heaven?”

“No, no, no… no, my son. You’re still here, on earth, with us. We saved you.”

“But, how?”

“We brought you here, to my lab. We salvaged as much as we could of your former body… unfortunately, that only included about 90% of your brain and some adipose tissue…”

“Wait… wait, what do you mean my ‘former’ body?”

He finally looked down for the first time, and cried out in shock. His hands, or the things his hands used to be, were no longer of flesh and blood. They had been replaced by metallic appendages that resembled fingers, palms, arms, elbows… weakly, he pulled off the white sheet that had been covering his lower body.

His eyes bulged out of their sockets.

It wasn’t just his hands and arms. His entire body was now covered in metal. A row of green lights from neck to abdomen. Grey plates across his ribs, stomach, chest and shoulders. All the way down his legs. Even his feet had not been spared.

“What… what is this?! What have you done?!”

He felt himself panicking. The faces of the other scientists and lab assistants looked on him anxiously and fearfully, unsure of what to do. As his breathing became more hitched and labored, he felt a sharp pain shoot through his chest. He clutched it with his hand.

“Breathe, breathe!! Please, you must calm down, or you’ll damage your inner circuits!”

The professor grasped his hand and stroked his head until he calmed down. Huh, he could feel his hands running through his hair. At least he’d been able to keep that. The soothing words and motions calmed him, steadying his breathing patterns once more.

“I know this is a lot to take in… I’m sorry to have put you through such an ordeal. But believe me, if there was another way…”

He squeezed his father’s hand as tightly as he could. He could still feel it as he had before many times. Whatever this new body was, it still granted him the sensation of touch. Which was much more than he could have ever expected.

His father and his team had saved his life. He realized how fortunate he was to even be sentient at this moment.

“It’s okay, dad. I understand.”

The professor motioned for one of his assistants, who brought him a diagram of sorts. It looked like a design for an android robot.

“This is the body model we gave to you. I designed it on my own. It’s the most up to date prototype in the realm of prosthetic parts. I call it… K1-b0.”

He traced his hands over the picture. So, this was what he looked like now. Not too bad. It looked similar to his former self. Maybe his father had done that on purpose.

“No one else has ever received a full body transplant. You’re the very first. Perhaps you can take on this new identity and make it your own.”

He pondered the name for a moment. It was a definitely a lot cooler than his old name.

“K1-b0… I like it."


	3. You're so much cooler now.

The weeks went by uneventfully. Iida attended rehab and slowly learned how to use his new limbs. It was nice to get out of bed and move around, even if it was just a little. Visitors were forbidden during that time, which he was sure Ouma wasn’t too happy about. He pictured him pouting like a child, with his cheeks puffed and his lower lip sticking out. What a big baby. He chuckled at the mental image.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed Ouma. He regretted all the times he’d snapped at him for making dumb jokes or saying things that made Iida’s heart pound and his face turn red. He missed the way he’d cling to his shoulder and giggle his annoying little laugh into his ear. He missed that ugly mop of hair that draped over his head like octopus tentacles. He missed hearing about all the stupid otaku shit he liked watching. He missed his dramatic professions of love that he’d always reject. He wished he would’ve returned them at least once, if only to see his reaction. And god, he really missed that dumb goofy laugh of his.

He wished he would have just held his hand that day.

It wasn’t just Ouma he longed for, though. He missed interacting with other kids his own age. He’d been surrounded by scientists, and while they were all friendly and cordial he was growing bored of their tests and technical language. He wanted to return to normality and continue living his life as a normal high school student.

He wondered if that was even possible anymore.

~

After Iida begged his father for days, Professor Iidabashi finally allowed Ouma to visit. Iida could barely contain his excitement; he’d had too much fun imagining Ouma’s face and was ready to see it in person. He’d probably cry those fat crocodile tears, wrap his arms around him and beg for forgiveness. He waited anxiously on the edge of his bed, clutching at the white sheets with both excitement and nervousness.

However, when Ouma finally saw him for the first time since the accident, Iida was not met with regret or sorrow… but fascination.

“Woooooooow! Iida-chan looks so cool now! Much cooler than he did before!”

“… Huh?!”

“You’re so sci-fi! Now you’re just like Motoko Kusanagi! Oh my goooooosh!”

Iida had no idea what obscure anime he was referring to. As Ouma fanboyed over his new prosthetic body, Iida just stood there in awe of Ouma’s unexpected behavior.

“Wait… Ouma-”

“Do you have a rocket launcher in your arm? Laser beams in your eyes? A jet pack in your back? Tell me tell me tell meeeee!”

“N-no! Of course not! It’s just a prosthetic body!”

“Ooooh, what do these buttons do?”

“Ouma, wa-HEYHEYHEYT! D-don’t!!”

Ouma proceeded to press all of the glowing buttons on Iida’s chest, sending shockwaves of tingly feelings through his body. It took him completely by surprise; he’d known he could still experience physical sensations, but he assumed _that_ was a thing of the past. Was he ever wrong.

“And you’re still ticklish! It’s like nothing ever happened!!”

“Ouma, stahahahap!”

The purple haired boy continued his curious exploration, poking the soft areas in between the metal plates and making Iida shriek in new ways. After a while, Iida had enough, and managed to push him off despite still getting used to his controls.

“Enough!”

“Neeheehee… sorry, I just really missed messin’ with you…”

Iida frowned as Ouma’s shit eating grin grew even bigger, along with Iida’s frustration.

“How could you just…”

Although he felt the urge to cry, nothing came out. Nothing, not even the hot pressure that used to burn the backs of his eyes. He couldn’t cry anymore. The sorrow stayed trapped in his prosthetic body.

“Hey… are you okay?”

Ouma moved to sit next to him on the bed, but Iida turned away as he glared at the wall behind him. Retreating into himself. The room fell silent, which grew more and more uncomfortable until Ouma finally broke it.

“I’m sorry… I’m acting like a jerk… it’s all my fault…”

Iida heard the twinge in his voice and looked back around to see his friend hanging his head, his octopus-like hair hanging over his eyes. He could tell he was on the verge of tears.

“Ouma…”

“I’m so sorry Iida-chan… it’s all my fault you’re like this now… if I had just listened to you and gone to school… then maybe you wouldn’t have…”

His voice grew more distorted and wet as he said each word, tears dripping from his face onto the white bed sheets and making little spots. Iida gingerly touched his arm.

“Ouma… it’s alright, you don’t need to cry…”

Ouma pulled away, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his uniform and smearing clear snot all over it. His nose was clogged, it sounded like he could barely breathe when he spoke.

“I said such horrible things to you. How could you ever forgive me?”

Iida sat quietly for a moment, considering his next words. He exhaled, coming to a decision.

“Hey. I barely remember what happened. My memory is still pretty foggy. To be honest, I don’t even remember what it was that you said. So it doesn’t matter. Stop kicking yourself, it’s not your fault.”

“… Really?”

“Yes. Really. Now please stop blubbering all over. Your nasty snot is gonna make me short circuit.”

It was a lie of course. He remembered everything. How scared Ouma looked when he saw those posters. How hurt he was when Iida said his life would’ve been more peaceful without him in it. How terrified he was when he saw the truck heading towards his friend. But he preferred to live this lie rather than confront the truth. He didn’t want Ouma feeling any worse than he already did, and he was willing to bear the burden of both their mistakes if it meant his friend could find peace.

Iida looked down and realized Ouma’s hand was on top of his.

\--

“Tell me about school. Anything interesting happen these last few months?”

After letting Ouma cry for a while, he offered up the question in attempt to catch up on things. What Ouma had been up to, what he had missed. If anyone had missed him.

“Oh yeah! I’m the new student council president now!”

Iida almost hit the ceiling.

“What?! But, how? Did they vote you in?”

“Well, sort of. I volunteered, and no one really argued against it.”

Ouma looked down at his hands, picking at his nails and cuticles.

“Everyone was so lost without you. You never realized it cuz you’re so clueless, but people really do look up to you as a leader. When you weren’t there to enforce the rules, or host meetings, or organize events, everything kinda shut down. And the worst part was, no one really wanted to step up and take responsibility.”

Iida said nothing. He hadn’t realized how important his presence was at school. He thought he was just another insipid over achiever, someone the other kids made fun of when they thought he wasn’t listening. He began to regret taking his role for granted.

Ouma continued on.

“Behavior issues started getting worse. The bullies started getting more aggressive. Some people even started skipping school cuz they knew there wouldn’t be any consequences. I got tired of all the chaos, so I volunteered to be interim president. At least until you got back.”

Iida looked at him expectantly. “And how do you like it?”

“Eh. It’s okay, I guess. I never really wanted to be in charge of others. But for some reason people listened to me. Even Gokuhara would scurry away when he saw me coming.”

“Really? Gokuhara? The world’s biggest asshole?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that something?”

Iida laughed weakly. He always knew Ouma was talented with people, but he never realized how perfect this kind of position was for him.

“You make a much better leader than I do.”

“Whaaaaat? No waaaay! No one makes a better president than Iida-chan! I bet ya a million dollars I’m gonna get kicked out as soon as you come back to school!”

That’s right. He had to go back eventually. He wondered what things would be like now that he was basically known as a martyr now.

“Ouma… do they know about… my condition?”

The purple haired boy didn’t say anything at first. He played with the tips of his hair, kicking his legs against the frame of the bed.

“Sort of. They know you were badly hurt, but I don’t think they know about the full body replacement.”

“Do you think… they’ll still accept me?”

“Mmmmm, I don’t really know. High schoolers can be really shitty, so I’m sure some of them will be assholes about it. But the people who really care about you won’t mind.”

Iida smiled at his last comment. Yeah, the people who really cared…

“Hey, Iida-chan? I have a question.”

Ouma perked up, and when Iida saw the look in his eyes, he knew he was going to regret humoring him.

“Um... what is it?"

“Do you still have a dick?”


	4. You will never be the same.

Iida approached the entrance gates with an indistinguishable mix of nerves and eagerness swirling around his insides. Finally, _finally_ the day had come. No more medical tests. No more observations. He was free to return to the world of the living. (He was free to return to Ouma’s side.)

The muted monochrome colors of the school building popped out more so than usual. Had his vision improved as a side effect? Or did the school look that much more appealing after staring at empty white walls for several weeks? He didn’t know, nor did he care. All that was on his mind was normalcy.

Normalcy. He almost laughed out loud when the word floated through his mind. As dreadfully painful as it was to admit, there was nothing normal about an android high school student. Although he was doing his best to pretend otherwise.

Walking outside for the first time again had been a bizarre experience on its own. Feeling the ground beneath his feet, but not _really_ feeling it. Catching the breeze as it passed between his metallic fingers, barely detecting any sensation at all. He understood now that his sense of touch was nothing but computed numbers and electronic signals meant to mimic the human nervous system.

Then again, he figured that was as close to a brain as he could get.

The structure waited patiently for him to approach. The stairs anticipated his first steps, the doors yearned to be opened. What future awaited him on the other side?

“Uhhh, earth to Iida-chan? Are you just gonna stand there and zone out, or would you prefer to be on time for your first day back?”

Ouma waved an obnoxious hand in his face, disrupting his histrionic inner monologue. Iida blinked himself back into the real world.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Jeez, I know you just went through a brain transplant and all, but you really shouldn’t act like such an airhead. You don’t wanna give people another reason to talk.”

“Thanks so much, Ouma. You’re _so_ understanding. I’m truly blessed to have such a useful friend.”

“Just trying to help. No need to lay the sarcasm so thick.”

Ouma did not look amused. Iida chuckled; he cherished the rare moments when he irritated him for once, instead of the other way around.

“Let’s go.”

He grabbed Ouma’s hand without thinking. When he realized what he’d done, it was too late, and he marched forward instead of wasting time feeling flustered at how soft and warm it felt in his (one sense of touch he was grateful to experience.) _No more regrets_ , he thought to himself. He refused to go another day without knowing what it felt like. Even if it meant walking into school hand in hand on his first day back, confirming the rumors.

If he had bothered to turn around, he would’ve seen a wide-eyed, pink-faced Ouma with just a hint of a smile curling up his round face.

Iida held that warm hand tightly but tenderly, took a deep breath, and walked inside with his chest held high and his shoulders back.

-

Their entrance was anticlimactic. No one lingered in the main halls as Iida expected. The two of them walked further inside and passed classrooms full of students chattering away, none of them standing even an inch near the doorways.

“Huh, that’s weird. Don’t people usually hang out here before classes begin?”

“Not anymore. New council rule states that everyone must be in their homerooms five minutes before the day starts.”

“And who came up with that?”

Ouma bounced his eyebrows up and down in a comical manner before giving Iida a flirtatious wink.

“Yours truly, of course.”

“Don’t tell me you’re running this school with an iron fist.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you.”

“Ouma!”

“Iida-chan, relaaaaax. You can change the rules again once you’re reinstated as president. It was just a temporary thing.”

Iida fell silent. He furrowed his brows, unhappy about both the totalitarian-like rule change and its obvious effectiveness. He reminisced on all the time he had spent in the past chasing down rogue students and threatening them with expulsion for skipping class. Somehow, Ouma had solved the problem in a few months with almost no prior experience with leadership.

What was it about him that made people listen? He wasn’t exactly intimidating. At least, not physically. He had the face of a baby, smooth and round with cute cheeks that puffed out whenever he was frustrated or feeling shy. His bedhead hairdo also worked against him, with his soft violet locks falling around his face due to his habit of playing with the split ends. His height didn’t exactly instill fear into the hearts of men, either; even for a boy his age, he was shorter than average. Everything about him reeked of meekness and docility, which was why Iida felt the need to protect him. He had always been prone to bullies and mistreatment, but that lessened when the two of them became friends. Being away from Ouma for so long had worried him for this reason, yet the smooth-talking boy had not only proven himself capable of standing his ground but creating a kingdom all on his own.

A part of him hated to admit it, but Ouma had proved himself to be a much better leader than Iida. He truly had a natural talent, and Iida was curious to see him in action. He wondered if Ouma even needed him anymore.

He was about to open his mouth to voice his thoughts aloud, but as soon as they turned the corner they almost ran face first into none other than Gokuhara. The pair of them screeched to a halt and stared up at the burly student, who glared down his nose from an entire foot higher with an intense look in his eyes. His arms bulged and seemed to swell with every hitched breath the colossal student took. His long hair was kept back into a low ponytail, which was against school regulations, but few dared to argue with the massive giant on the subject for obvious reasons.

Iida braced himself for a dispute, a brawl, or some sort of negative encounter. But instead, he heard Ouma’s too-cheerful voice echoing through his ears instead.

“Ah, Gokuhara-san! Heading to class? I sure hope so, since the day is about to begin in t-minus three minutes! You wouldn’t want to be _late_ , would you?”

Gokuhara grunted, but said nothing. That was strange. Usually he was full of retorts and excuses.

“I trust I’ll see you after school today as well. It is your turn for soji! You can mop this time, since you didn’t get a chance to last month and I know you’re just _dying_ to have your turn!”

Gokuhara growled as he clenched his fist. His entire arm tensed for a moment, causing Iida to flinch, but he promptly loosened his grip and let his hand fall limp at his side. He shot another unsavory look at the purple-haired student, but again said nothing.

Iida’s jaw would’ve dropped to the floor if he had lacked self control. Gokuahara had never shown up for soji in the past. At least, not when Iida had been in charge. And he’d never seen him hold back a physical attack before.

What was going on?

Gokuhara turned his attention to Iida.

“You. Back from the dead. With a fresh new body.”

An acknowledgement. Iida opened his mouth to speak, but was promptly cut off by Ouma.

“Tsk, tsk. Where have your manners gone, Gokuhara-san? You've hurt poor Iida-chan's feelings.”

Gokuhara’s eyes narrowed. His lips curled into a snarl; Iida could almost see the verbal jabs dripping from his mouth.

“Iidabashi-san. Welcome back. You look… well.”

A forced compliment. Highly out of character.

“Much better! It’s Iida-chan’s first day back after a long time, you know. I don’t want him feeling disrespected.”

Gokuhara didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence before pushing past them. He turned to Iida before he disappeared down the hallway and grumbled to him in a deep, hushed tone-

“I never thought I’d say this, but thank god you’re back.”

Iida thought he was going crazy. It’s as if the entire dynamic of the school had changed. Ouma, the kid who used to get beat up for his lunch money and chemistry notes, was bossing around Gokuhara like he was his superior. And Gokuhara was _allowing_ it.

Also, there was something about the way Ouma spoke to him that was off. He barely noticed it, perhaps was even imagining things, but there was the tiniest hint of a threat in Ouma’s words that he had never heard in their years of friendship. It felt unfamiliar, and… perhaps, ominous?

“Ouma…” Iida whispered to him as they walked in the opposite direction to their homeroom. “What the hell just happened?”

Ouma just giggled.

“Neeheehee… I’ll tell you later. We better hurry, or else we’ll get in trouble for breaking the rules.”

-

“Everyone, I am happy to announce that Iidabashi has made a full recovery and will return as part of our class for the remainder of the school year. Please give him a warm welcome back.”

The room was silent after the homeroom teacher gave her half-hearted announcement, except for the sound of barely audible whispers. Unfortunately, Iida could hear everything as clear as day thanks to his new prosthetic ears.

“… talk about uncanny valley…”

“…’s that on his face?”

“… wonder if… he can fly now…”

“… looks so… emotionless…”

Iida saw the way his classmates were staring at him, like he was some kind of… anomaly. He looked self-consciously down at his limbs – the metal plates and glowing buttons visible even through the thick fabric of his dark navy uniform – and realized how foolish he was to think he could dupe them. Of course they’d notice. Even Ouma had asked him a series of ridiculous questions once he’d seen him. He was a walking sci-fi trailer now.

He took his seat, titanium and steel clinking and crunching as each leg moved through the quiet room. He kept his eyes on his desk, not wanting to meet those of his peers and witness the disgust they now felt towards him. He squeezed them shut, doing his best to block out the harsh reality he found himself faced with.

He was dead wrong and had been all along. Nothing was going to be the same.

-

A few blocks away, at a bus stop marked with a blue ribbon and vivid spring flowers to commemorate the horrendous accident that occurred many months ago, a missing person poster with torn edges and faded ink flapped about wildly every time the wind blew. The face on the poster was that of a young girl, looking to be in her second or third year of high school, with ruby red hair and dim hazel eyes. Her expression was lazy and complacent, but within it held a hope often seen in the eyes of youth. Above her head was the word “MISSING” in bright red letters; below, a simple description of her name, her age and height, where she was last seen, and she had been wearing when she’d disappeared.

The paper folded and fluttered and finally ripped away from the dry tape holding it on the steel pole, flying up and away into the dark gray clouds that were quickly approaching from the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still recovering from a bad case of burnout, so I'm a little rusty. I apologize for any choppy bits. But I am going to do my best to finish this fic even if it kills me.


	5. You really don't know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola, this chapter is when things start getting darker and more angst-y. I've updated tags with the appropriate content warnings, so please be mindful when proceeding.

She awoke in a haze with her blonde hair plastered against her head and cheeks. She was sweating; from both fear and discomfort. She felt the heavy metal pressed tightly against her skull, heard the beeps from the monitors behind her, and realized she was still trapped in her hellish nightmare.

She looked around. She was still in the operating room. The four other students that had been there before her were unconscious, arranged in a circle, all of them with strange metal contraptions fitted to their heads. Each of them was confined to an uncomfortable wooden chair, with iron cuffs around their wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles which effectively immobilized them. 

She noticed a new girl directly across from her. Red hair, black clothes, round face that made her look much younger than she probably was. Another victim. Her eyes were open, but she made no sounds or movements. Some drool was dribbling out from one side of her mouth. She wondered if she’d already been successfully washed.

“Good morning, Akamatsu.”

A voice that was much too cheery for the dread-inducing environment greeted her. She said nothing.

“Now now, no need to give me the cold shoulder. After all, I have good news!”

She pursed her lips, clenching the edge of her chair with her broken, chipped nails.

“The metamorphosis is almost complete. Your brain has adapted very well to its new programming. Soon you will be able to join the others.”

Her knuckles turned white. Her breath grew rigid and hitched.

“Let me go.”

The voice chuckled.

“My dear, you know it’s too late for all of that.”

She tugged at her bonds futilely, knowing it would do nothing but wanting to vent some of the anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach.

“How many more? Don’t you have enough already?”

“Nine more, then the curtains open. And we have an enthralling story the audience is going to _love_.”

She felt panic rising within her, but she was helpless to do anything.

“You won’t get away with this.”

The voice fell silent. She heard footsteps, sensed a body moving around the chair, and soon came face to face with the mastermind. She held a syringe chock full of a mysterious liquid she knew would have a dreadful effect on her.

“You belong to us now. Mind, body, and spirit.”

The thick needle plunged into her skin as she let out a blood-curdling scream. Within seconds, she was out cold. Her captor snickered, pulling out the needle and wiping off the residue blood bare-handed.

“You are going to make an excellent protagonist.”

-

Iida followed a cheery, whistling Ouma off the school grounds. He was tired; his first day back had not gone as planned, and he was emotionally exhausted from dealing with all the ignorant students. The student council meeting had been just as awkward as his re-introduction in class; from vice president Iruma refusing to look him in the eye, to the rest of the members speaking in circles around him and only speaking of Ouma when it came to the important topics. The interim leader wasn't there to speak up for Iida, due to his soji duties, so Iida may as well have been invisible. It only furthered his decision to let Ouma continue his role as president, which he had wanted to discuss with him but hadn’t gotten the chance due to being interrupted every five fucking seconds.

He was tired. All he wanted to do was go home and lock himself in his room for the next ten years. Screw school, screw the student council, and screw all the shitty judgemental people he’d had to deal with that day.

“Iida-chaaan… why the long face?”

Ouma chirped gleefully at his gloomy friend. Iida couldn’t have kept from glaring even if he’d tried.

 _There he goes again_ , he thought bitterly. _How is it that he can read me so accurately, even now when I’m less human than before?_

“Ouma,” he stopped walking and faced his purple-haired friend with a serious look. “I’d like to have a serious conversation with you.”

Ouma stopped dead in his tracks. His face was blank, as it always was when he was caught off guard.

“Hmm? Is my beloved Iida-chan breaking up with me?”

“Stop messing around. It’s important.”

Fake tears welled in his eyes as he forced out his lower lip.

“Waaaaah… Iida-chan’s fallen out of love with his beloved Ouma! I can feel myself falling into despair!”

In a sudden move of unexpected violence, Iida grabbed Ouma’s shoulders and shook them. The metal dug into his skin uncomfortably as Ouma winced in pain.

“Ouma! Enough of the jokes! Be serious for once!”

“Iida-chan… you’re hurting me…”

Iida realized how tightly he was clenching the poor boy and let go immediately. Ouma rubbed the two tender spots where he’d been squeezed. He looked at Iida with frightened eyes.

“What the hell was that for?!”

Iida panicked. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what had he done? Why the hell had he grabbed him like that? His mind went back to the day at the bus stop, but he pulled himself back. This wasn’t the time to go back there.

“Fuck, Ouma, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just- I, damn it, I can’t…”

“English please, robo-boy!”

Iida continued to stumble over his words.

“It’s just that… I can never tell if you’re… if you mean it.”

“Mean what?”

“Just… all the things you say… sometimes I actually believe them…”

“Believe what?”

“Damn it, Ouma! I’m doing my best here!”

“Well your best sucks! I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Am I really your beloved?”

Silence. A breeze blew in between the two teenagers, headed towards the tangerine-colored sky. The sun was only just beginning to dip beyond the horizon.

“What do you think?” Ouma finally asked in a deadpan voice. His long bangs covered his eyes. Iida was unable to read his expression.

“God, I don’t know, if I did I obviously wouldn’t be asking...”

Ouma was quiet. Iida couldn’t remember a time he’d ever been speechless. He’d really surprised him with this. He went on, figuring he had already dug himself into a hole. Might as well get buried.

“I’m not the best at talking about this stuff… you know that. But, like, I have feelings too Ouma… and all this joking around, telling me I’m your beloved, saying you wanna kiss me and get married and stuff… it’s not funny… it hurts me knowing it’s all just a big joke to you…”

“Iida-chan…”

“So, please, don’t say things like that anymore unless you mean it!”

The last part came out louder than intended. Iida heard his voice crack as it echoed across the grounds. Hot pressure burned the backs of his eyes. He was grateful he couldn’t cry anymore.

He couldn’t say the same for Ouma, though. He finally lifted his eyes, and Iida saw tears, actual tears, streaming down his round cheeks.

“You’re such an idiot! Do you really think I’d joke about that?!”

“…What?”

“God, you’re so fucking dense! I literally couldn’t be more obvious, and you _still_ don't trust me!”

“Wait, Ouma, are you-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish; Ouma stormed away without bothering to listen. Thankfully, he didn’t run out into the street this time. Iida watched him stomp down the sidewalk, wiping his eyes half-hazardly. He sighed in anger and frustration, kicking the dirt under his feet and growling viciously like an animal.

That was not how he’d wanted their conversation to go. Hell, that wasn’t even what he’d wanted to talk to him about. Now things were even more complicated and messed up.

“God _damn_ it!!”

He was about to really lose it when he heard something scuttling behind him. He swerved around, and saw Iruma standing a few feet away, cowering in fear as if she was looking at a monster. _She might as well have been_ , he thought.

“Iruma-san. I apologize.”

She pushed her stringy yellow hair behind her ear and cleared her throat.

“I-it’s okay, Iida-kun… I didn’t mean to, but I saw what happened with Ouma-san…”

Iida cringed.

“D-don’t worry… I won’t say anything…”

Iruma Miu. She was a sweet girl, albeit timid and soft spoken. And she was as pretty as she was shy, with cornflower hair and light blue eyes that lit up whenever she talked about recent inventions and other technological advancements. She had been a member of the student council before Iida had joined, but they’d both been voted into their leadership positions at the same time. He had known her to be an excellent student who outshined almost everyone else at math and science, and she was often found tinkering around in the robotics lab after school. The teachers said she was gifted and Iida heard she’d already been accepted into a prestigious technical university. However, he knew she didn’t have many friends because of this, most students being jealous of both her smarts and her quiet, classic beauty. They'd always been cordial towards one another, exchanging pleasantries and making small talk to pass the time, but their relationship stopped at acquaintances. Which was why it was so strange she was seeking him out now.

“Is there something you need from me?” He asked candidly.

“Actually, I wanted to, uhm, talk to you… about Ouma-san…”

Iida perked up. “What about him?”

Iruma glanced around, noticeably uncomfortable being out in the open.

“Uhm… let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere private.”

-

They found themselves under the bleachers next to the track. The team had cancelled practice that day, so everybody had gone home and the field was empty. Miu hugged her knees to her chest, her back pressed against the cold metal. Iida stood across for her, leaning against a wide pole.

“So, you wanted to talk to me about Ouma.”

Iruma sat pensively, considering her next words.

“It’s just that… he’s been a great president in your absence… but we are all a little worried… his methods of behavior management are bit… extreme…”

“Extreme? What do you mean?”

“W-well… I don’t know for certain, but there’s a rumor that he’s using blackmail to keep the rowdy students in check.”

“… Wait, what?! Ouma would never do that! He’s not the kind of person to stoop to such measures!”

Iida raised his voice, and Iruma recoiled back as if she was about to get hit. He took a step back one he sensed her fear, not wanting to repeat the same mistake he’d made with Ouma.

“Th-that’s what I s-said! But, someone told me th-that he’s blackmailing Gokuhara… and that’s why he doesn’t talk back to him anymore.”

“Wait… Gokuhara?” Iida couldn’t possibly fathom Ouma having such power over Gokuhara. What could he be holding over his head that meant so much to him?

“You didn’t hear it from me… but rumor has it that Gokuhara is…”

Iruma looked around again to make sure no one was listening before whispering in Iida’s ear.

“… an entomophile.”

Iida blinked. “Uh… forgive my ignorance, but what exactly is that?”

“He’s a bug-lover. He keeps insects for a hobby. He had a whole collection of exotic bugs from all over, but somehow Ouma got his hands on it. And he’s refusing to give it back until Gokuhara reforms.”

“Okay, that's ridiculous. How did he even find out about that? And how could he possibly pull off capturing an entire collection of _bugs_? We’re talking Ouma Kokichi, here. The kid who used to cry when the teachers scolded him for talking in class.”

“He didn’t do it on his own. He had help.”

“From who?”

Iruma opened her mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it.

“Sorry… that’s all I can tell you. I don’t wanna go much deeper… we’re all afraid he’s going to turn on us if we go against him, eventually.”

Iida puzzled over all the information Iruma had disclosed to him. On top of everything that had happened earlier, today was turning out to be quite bizarre. It seemed as if the whole world was being turned upside down, and everything was moving opposite of its natural path. Iida felt lost.

“Why are you telling me all this?” He finally asked after a long period of silence.

“Because you’re the one closest to him. Maybe he’ll listen if you talk to him.”

“Ouma never listens to me.”

“Iida-san. You’re a smart guy. You must know how much Ouma is in love with you.”

Iida felt his face get hot. He wanted to retort, but nothing came to mind. He shifted his eyes away instead.

“Anyway, I just wanted to fill you in on what’s really happening here. People aren’t just avoiding you because of… your changes. It’s because they’re afraid of Ouma.”


	6. You deserve better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this hurts me more than it hurts you
> 
> content warning for implied sexual favors/blackmail/and holy hell a lot of angst

Ouma made his way down the darkened streets, looking behind him every now and then to make sure he wasn’t being followed.

Sneaking out of his room had been a piece of cake, but his biggest concern now was getting caught. The local police had announced an earlier curfew for minors due to all the recent disappearances, and they were acting more dickish than usual about enforcing them. The consequence for being out after dark was something Ouma didn’t feel like dealing with on top of everything else. Besides, he had important matters to attend to that couldn’t wait until sunrise.

After several minutes he finally made it to 5th street. He turned down an alley with brick walls on either side and stopped when he saw a green door.

He knocked on it. _Daaa-da-daaa da da da_.

It opened, and a hushed voice whispered, “Hurry.”

Ouma scurried inside as the person shut the door behind him. He spent about ten seconds making sure all the locks were in place; about five total. Ouma thought it was overkill but he kept his comment to himself. He knew better.

He looked at the boy with navy black hair that hung over his vacant face. He had dark bags under his eyes that were more pronounced against his ghostly pale skin. His expression was a mix of ennui and contempt, not surprising coming from someone who was basically a hikkikomori. It wasn’t hard to believe someone like him was so talented at investigating the deepest, darkest secrets of the human populace.

“You don’t get out much, do you Saihara?”

“Shut your mouth. I got the pictures like you wanted.”

Saihara pulled out a marigold envelope and handed it to Ouma. He opened it and reached in, pulling out a thick stack of pictures printed on shiny portrait paper. When his eyes saw the contents, they grew as wide as dinner plates.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

For the second time that day, Ouma was speechless. He sifted through the photos, his mouth dropping as they got progressively worse and worse.

“When I told you to dig up dirt on Iruma, I wasn’t expecting _this_.”

Saihara ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“I guess she’s selling them for extra money. I found out her scholarships only covered tuition, and her family’s too poor to afford room and board.”

“Selling panties is one thing, I get that. But this… this is some really kinky shit.”

Saihara shrugged.

“I’ve seen worse. At least they’re not pissing or shitting on her.”

Ouma felt a twinge of guilt course through his chest. Sure, he’d already damned himself by going to these extremes in the first place. But he hadn’t expected to stumble upon this kind of secret. Maybe a few panty shots she’d sent to her ex boyfriends or something, but not _this_. Revealing these photos to the public could potentially ruin Iruma’s future. Was that something he was willing to risk, just for a taste of power?

He quickly put the pictures back into the envelope and shoved it into his backpack.

“So? Are you gonna use them?”

“I don’t know. I have to think about it.”

Saihara scoffed and mumbled something about doing all that fucking work just for Ouma to pussy out last second. Ouma pretended not to hear. He turned around and was about to make his exit when a sharp, thin hand grabbed his arm.

“Hey! Don’t think you’re getting out of here without paying up first! You still owe me for Gokuhara!”

Ouma grimaced.

“I’ll have it by next week. I don’t have any money on me right now.”

“Not good enough. I’ve busted my ass for you these last few months. I want my compensation.”

Saihara’s grip tightened. Ouma didn’t fight back; it was useless, anyway. He was weak. And he was alone. One look at Saihara’s glowering hazel eyes warned him of the impending danger he was in. Maybe if Iida were here, he could think of some clever trick to get away and escape from Saihara’s clutches. Iida always had a way of making him feel brave and strong.

But he wasn’t there. Ouma hated how meek and useless he was without him.

An idea came to mind: a repulsive, filthy idea that gave him nausea just imagining it. But he was running out of options. And Saihara was running out of patience.

He swallowed dryly and closed his eyes.

_Sorry, Iida-chan._

“Well… maybe we can work something out?”

His tone changed drastically. The words dripped from his lips like poisoned honey. He batted his eyes, curling the corners of his mouth in the same way he saw the heroines do in his favorite TV shows. He tried to emulate their confidence and mask the growing fear within himself.

Saihara’s gaze drifted downwards, then back up, violating every inch of him along the way. He bit his chapped lips. His hand relaxed.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Oh… you know…”

Ouma pulled the zipper on his hoodie down a few centimeters, making his proposal quite clear. Saihara pondered it for a few moments, then slowly let go of the young leader. His next words came out in a deep, hoarse grumble.

“Friday. My place. Same time.”

Ouma scampered to the door as soon as Saihara let go and opened each lock with shaky hands. He took a deep breath to regain his composure, then turned around and winked as he stood halfway between freedom and confinement.

“Roger that, detective.”

\--

The next few days went by without much excitement. Iida went to and from school, settling into his old routine. He studied for his exams. He attended student council meetings. He sat through dinner with his father and made small talk about classes. But he couldn’t shake off the fact that something was very wrong.

Ouma was avoiding him.

He knew he was still upset about their conversation earlier that week. Iida knew that was his own fault; he hadn’t bothered reaching out to Ouma afterwards to apologize. It’s not that he didn’t want to, he just wasn’t sure how to effectively express how he felt. He had always been terrible with words, but after the accident it seemed to get much worse.

Plus, he needed to think things through. For one, why was he so upset about Ouma’s flirting in the first place? It’s not as if he disliked it, per se. He didn’t dare say it out loud, but the special attention from the purple haired boy made his stomach flip flop and his heart pound against the confines of his metallic body. It was the idea of Ouma toying with his emotions that set him off, but did he really believe it was all just a farce? He had known Ouma for years, since they were practically kids. Although it was hard to tell with him sometimes, he had learned early on how to discern between his lies and his truths, whether the difference was shown through his body language or tone or voice or his expression. He noticed when Ouma got closer to him every time he mentioned cuddling or hand holding. He saw his eyes sparkle whenever Iida gave him a genuine compliment. He heard the subtle pang in his voice whenever Iida called him out on his fibs and he got defensive about it.

Maybe Ouma didn’t realize it himself, but he really wasn’t that great at lying.

Iida laid on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling and counting all the little holes in each tile. He gave up after a few minutes, sighing in displeasure.

He looked at his watch. 8:32 P.M. Curfew went a little later tonight, the cutoff for students under 18 being 10:00 PM on Fridays, but he’d be pushing it if he went out now. It would be unbecoming of the council president to get cited for breaking curfew. But he thought about Ouma alone at his house, watching one of his weird animes alone in the dark with his blanket wrapped around him, looking lonely as ever knowing Iida wasn’t there to suffer through those corny episodes with him.

He made up his mind.

He grabbed his jacket and threw it on before rushing downstairs and out the front door.

\--

Iida was about to knock on the door to the Ouma household when it opened unexpectedly, revealing his somber looking friend.

“Oh. It’s you.”

He spoke in a completely monotone voice. Yup, still angry.

“Can I come in for a bit?” Iida asked meekly.

“I’m kinda busy right now…”

“Please?”

Iida must have seemed pathetic, but he didn’t care at that point. Ouma appeared to notice his desperation, for he opened the door enough for Iida to walk inside.

“Fine.”

The house was dark and empty. Ouma’s parents often worked late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to be home alone. They went upstairs to his bedroom, where Iida took his normal seat on the foot of Ouma’s bed. Ouma plopped near the head board, hugging his knees to his chest with his back against the wall. Neither one said anything for a while, until Iida finally broke the tension.

“Ouma. I’m sorry about what I said before. I’m a dumbass.”

A few more seconds passed before Ouma answered.

“It’s fine.”

More silence. The awkwardness was killing Iida. They’d fought before many times, but it had never gotten to this point. It almost felt hostile.

“Can I ask you something?” Iida finally spoke.

“I guess.”

“Are you blackmailing people?”

Ouma suddenly perked up and stared at Iida with a worried look on his face.

“Who told you that?”

“Uhm… uh… some people in the student council were talking…”

Ouma put his chin back on his knees. His eyebrows crumpled together in displeasure.

“And what if I am? What are you gonna do about it?”

“Tell you to stop, obviously.”

Ouma rolled around and planted his face in one of his pillows. He didn’t move nor answer. Iida scooched closer to him.

“Why are you doing this? It’s not like you. Not like the Ouma I know.”

Ouma lifted his head to spit his retort back at Iida.

“Maybe I’m not the Ouma you know anymore. Maybe I’m someone worse.”

“This isn’t right and you know it.”

“Do I?”

“Ouma!”

Ouma finally sat up all the way, noticeably wound up by Iida’s questioning.

“Why don’t you just mind your own business?”

“Because you’re my friend!”

“What if I don’t wanna be friends?”

Hearing that broke Iida’s heart into an uncountable number of fractured pieces. It must have shown on his face, because Ouma looked remorseful.

“Th-that’s not what I meant!”

“What did you mean, then?”

Ouma paused, his whole body tense and wretched with pain. His face was hidden from view. He spoke his next words almost inaudibly.

“What if… what if I wanted more?”

Iida’s face softened, his mouth parted slightly and his eyes open in surprise. He wanted to speak, but nothing came out.

Did this mean his assumptions were correct?

“You don’t have to answer. I already know what you’re gonna say, anyway.”

“Ouma, look at me.”

Iida climbed over the purple haired boy, staring into the depths of his eyes and searching for his truth. Ouma gazed up at him from beneath, waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“You’re not lying.”

The shorter boy lowered his eyes, annoyed at the implication.

“Of course I’m not! Why would I-“

He was silenced by a pair of lips pressed against his own.

The two found themselves lost in the moment. With eyes closed, they fell deeper into the kiss, the only thing on their minds was the feeling of the other’s breath. Iida sighed while Ouma breathed in. Ouma released the air in his lungs as Iida inhaled and filled his chest with the sweet scent of Ouma’s skin. Their hands somehow found their way to one another, intertwining fingers like vines as they bloomed together in the shadowy privacy of the bedroom.

It was over all too soon.

Iida pulled away and instantly regretted his action when he saw tears bubbling in Ouma’s eyes.

“Wait, what’s wrong? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking…”

“I… I… I don’t deserve this… I don’t deserve you!”

Ouma cried out as the tears broke loose and raced down his cheeks, staining his purple comforter dark violet. At a loss, Iida moved to his side, laying next to him and running his hands through his messy hair as he witnessed Ouma fall to pieces. He let him cry, knowing his words wouldn’t do much. Ouma buried his face in his chest as he confessed what had been plaguing him for so long.

“I tried, Iida-chan… I tried to be strong without you. I tried to be someone worthy of being your friend. I didn’t want to rely on you to protect me all the time. But God, it was hell! Nobody would leave me alone! They only saw me as a joke, like I was this worthless creature that skulked in the dirt. I was nothing to them! I just… I just wanted respect. I wanted them to see me as their equal. And I thought… I thought…”

Ouma couldn’t finish as he fell victim to deep, heavy sobs that made his entire body quake with despair. Without saying a word, Iida pulled him into his arms and held him as if he would fall apart upon letting go. He stroked his purple hair and hummed softly, as he always did when he comforted his long-time friend.

“It’s gonna be okay, Ouma…”

He sniveled and spluttered into his chest, soaking Iida’s jacket with his tears, but Iida didn’t mind. Something about holding Ouma like this felt… right. Like this was where he was meant to be all along.

“I’m so weak without you… I’m not worthy of standing by your side.”

“Don’t say such things. You did so well on your own. I can’t say I approve of your tactics, but I understand why you did it.”

Ouma hiccupped, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he laid in Iida’s arms. Iida continued, letting his thoughts flow naturally and without restrain for the first time in his young life.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. But I’m here now. And I’m never leaving you again. I promise.”

The two lay there as the hours passed, making up for all the lost time they had spent wishing they were in this moment. It was pure bliss, cuddled up as they were without a care or concern. All of the walls destroyed, all of the truths revealed. How hard they had both prayed for this, and it was finally theirs. Even if it wasn’t meant to last.

It wasn’t until the first rays of daylight snuck through the window on Saturday morning that Ouma remembered the debt he still owed.


	7. You'll pay for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y i k e s  
> buckle up baby it's gonna be a wild ride  
> (last chapter with dubious content, i promise)

Waking up in the arms of someone you love is one way to experience heaven as a human. At least, that’s how Ouma felt.

He woke up as the fresh sunlight poured down on him from his bedroom window. He didn’t realize he had knocked out last night and wondered how long he had blubbered over Iida before falling asleep. How embarrassing.

Iida dozed softly beside him, still covered by shadows and snoring ever so slightly every time his chest rose and fell. Ouma almost laughed out loud; it was ridiculous enough that Iida still slept even though he was now an android, and even more so knowing that he suffered from mild apnea. He spent his first waking moments observing him up close, something he had never had the chance to do until now. The smooth, alabaster skin of his android model was eerily close to his natural one. He knew it was made of a special type of plastic, but he would have never thought that if Professor Iidabashi hadn’t told him. It looked so... real. So Iida.

He lifted a hand to feel his softness for himself, but pulled away before his fingers made contact. No, he’d let him sleep. Iida was usually so stressed and rigid; seeing him like this made Ouma realize how seldom he saw his best friend truly relax.

Best friend. After last night, was that still the case? Ouma touched his lips. Iida’s had felt so soft against his, despite being made of artificial material. His kiss had been tender, yet passionate, the kind that turned friends into lovers and infatuation into romance.

Was that what they were now… lovers?

Surely, he'd would want to have a conversation about that. He always wanted to have a damn conversation. The thing Ouma feared most. Saying his emotions out loud brought them to life and made them tangible and real. He desperately wanted to bury them.

But maybe now was the time to let those walls come down. Iida was different from others; he often gave him shit, sure, but he knew that it was because he genuinely cared for him. Last night’s actions proved that. Maybe they could’ve been like this earlier if Ouma hadn’t made such a mockery of his own feelings. Jokes had always been safer than honesty, but they’d prevented him from being intimate with the one person he trusted most.

Ouma decided that would end today. He vowed to be a more honest person, for both his and Iida’s sake.

He closed his eyes and was about to drift back to sleep when he heard the doorbell ring.

Iida stirred. His hands clung to Ouma more tightly, pulling him in closer until the violet-haired boy could feel his gentle exhales.

The doorbell rang again. This time, more urgently. Iida’s brows crumpled together as he groaned.

“Iida-chan. I’m gonna go answer the door.”

Iida’s eyes opened for a split second, then squeezed shut as he released Ouma from his embrace and stretched his limbs in all four directions. He turned his back to him and curled up in a fetal position, returning to the dream realm.

Ouma took the chance to sneak away.

When he got to the door, no one was there. He looked around until his eyes fell on something near his feet.

A marigold envelope.

His heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

He tore it apart and scanned through the ominous message written on the egg-colored note inside. His eyes bulged from their sockets. He shoved the paper in his pocket, slammed the front door, and made his way to 5th avenue.

\--

Saihara was waiting for him in the alley.

Against his better nature, Ouma trembled. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to turn back around, to go and ask someone, anyone for help, but he was determined to settle this problem on his own. Plus, he didn’t want to drag poor Iida into this mess. It was better if he didn’t know.

“I missed you last night,” the detective said with a smirk. Ouma had never seen him smile before, which made the situation much more unsettling. His clammy hands clutched the sleeves of his dampened hoodie.

“It’s over, Saihara,” proclaimed Ouma. “No more investigating. I’ll pay you for the work you’ve done so far, but after that I want you to leave me and my classmates alone.”

Saihara scoffed.

“So the little rat is firing me. Too bad. All that hard work, down the drain.”

He approached him until he was within arm’s reach. Ouma cowered as he got closer.

“What’s your problem? I said I’d pay you.”

“Exactly. You’ll pay me on the terms we agreed upon. And don’t think you can weasel your way out of it this time.”

Saihara grabbed a fistful of his eggplant hair and shoved the smaller boy against the stone wall. Ouma let out a whimper.

“I still have Gokuhara’s collection and Iruma’s photos. Maybe I’ll use them myself. I could plaster Iruma’s tits all over the city. Then everyone would know what a whore she is.”

Ouma didn’t bother struggling. He knew how this had to end. With his face smashed against the wall, he submitted to the nightmare that was his current reality. As long as he was the only one who had to suffer, perhaps it would be worth it. Maybe this was what it meant to be an honest person.

“Don’t… please… I’ll do whatever, just don’t do that to Iruma-san… and give Gokuhara his collection back… please!”

Saihara softened his grip, but didn’t let go.

“Good. Now take it off.”

Ouma couldn’t control his unsteady hands as they moved to his sweater. He squeezed his eyes shut. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could go back to his place with Iida. He kept telling himself that over and over in his mind as his layers were stripped away, like a mantra spoken in deep meditation. He hoped it would take him somewhere far from where he was.

He felt himself drifting further and further until a deep baritone voiced pull him back to the present.

“Get your hands off him.”

Suddenly, he couldn’t feel Saihara’s hands on him any longer. Ouma opened his eyes.

There stood Gokuhara, in his 6-foot glory, practically strangling the detective as he pressed his thick bicep into his neck against the other wall.

“I hate pigs like you,” he snarled, a fire blazing in his eyes that Ouma had never seen before.

Saihara’s face was turning strange shades of purple and blue. He grasped at his neck, seeking air and finding none.

“Gokuhara-san, stop! You’re going to kill him!” cried a light, feminine voice.

Was that… Iruma?

Ouma heard a thump as Saihara fell to the ground like a ragdoll. He coughed and sputtered as his airway cleared. Gokuhara's vicious glare could have cut through glass.

“You’re lucky I didn’t come alone. I have no problem squashing vermin like you.”

Saihara glared at the three of them, one hand still around his reddened neck. He spit out pinkish red liquid on the ground near Gokuhara’s shoes.

“You’ll all pay for this,” he stammered. “You’ll pay for what you did to me… and her.”

Those were his troubling last words before he stumbled out of the alley and around the corner.

Ouma let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He realized he had fallen to his knees, and looked up to face his saviors head on. Gokuhara loomed over him while Iruma knelt by his side, her eyes consumed by worry and fear.

“Ouma-san? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

He held his head, feeling a bit dizzy from all the action.

“No… I’m okay. You got here before anything bad happened.”

“Thank God. We saw you go down that creepy alley, and I got such a bad feeling…”

Ouma gazed up at his two classmates in confusion.

“Why are you two here, anyway?”

Gokuhara tensed, but said not a word. Iruma answered for both of them.

“Well… actually, we followed you.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to speak with you. Man to man.”

Gokuhara’s words came out harsh as ever. Ouma flinched; it seemed his body memory hadn’t forgotten his past encounters with the behemoth. Iruma put a comforting hand on his shoulder as if she read his mind.

“Gokuhara and I want to end the blackmail once and for all. We were about to go to your house to see you, but we saw you rush off like you were in a huge hurry. We followed you here, and that’s when we saw that guy almost…”

Water pricked the corners of her eyes, and out of nowhere she wrapped Ouma in a bear hug and let her tears fall freely.

“I heard what you said. He found my pictures and you didn’t want him to expose me. Thank you, Ouma-san.”

Apprehensively, Ouma moved to reciprocate her hug. As Iruma cried on his shoulder, he looked up at Gokuhara. His typical tyrannical expression has softened into an almost imperceptible grin.

“You’re not what I expected, Ouma.”

He figured that was the closest he’d get to a compliment. He accepted it.

“Iruma-san,” Ouma asked when he sensed she had calmed down a bit. “What did Saihara mean by what he said? Do you know?”

Iruma pulled herself away and stared at Ouma. She looked at Gokuhara, who had a similar puzzled appearance. She sighed defeatedly and pushed a few strands of her long yellow hair behind her ear.

“There’s only one thing I can think of that makes sense… and that has to do with an old friend of mine.”

\--

_Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring_.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“Ah. And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I have four more potentials for you. Three boys, one girl. One of them an android. A walking freak show. They’d make an interesting cast of characters for the new season.”

“Excellent. Inform us of their coordinates and we’ll swoop them up as soon as possible. Thank you for your cooperation, Saihara Shuichi.”

“Wait. Tell me how she’s doing.”

“She’s in good hands. Worry not; here at TDR, we take good care of our specimens.”

“And once I get the rest, you’ll let her go?”

“…”

“Hello? Hello??”

“Please send those coordinates as soon as possible.”

_Beep_.


	8. You're not to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Kat!

The unlikely trio found themselves sharing a tiny table at a nearby coffee shop. It buzzed with small talk, nondescript background noise, and the occasional sound of the grinder crushing beans for espresso.

Iruma stared into her mug, swirling her cappuccino left and right without taking a sip. Her eyes were focused and intense. Blonde hair drifted into her eyes, but she didn’t bother pushing it away.

Ouma and Gokuhara across from each other, Ouma with his sugary chocolate drink and Gokuhara with his cup of black coffee. They watched her expectantly.

“It all began a few months ago,” she started. “With the kidnappings.”

“You mean, the missing students?” Ouma asked.

“Yeah. You probably already know this, but in the beginning, there were four original missing people. Two boys, and two girls.”

Gokuhara grumbled, taking a loud slurp of his drink.

“Yeah? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well… nothing, if it hadn’t been for the fifth.”

“What do you mean?”

Iruma bit her lip.

“Akamatsu Kaede. When she went missing, everything changed.”

An image of a blonde girl with pink eyes and friendly smile flashed through Ouma’s mind. The poster he had seen the day of the accident. That was her… wasn’t it?

“Wait… I think I remember! But, what was different about her? Didn’t the other students go missing in the same way?”

Iruma shook her head.

“Akamatsu-chan’s case was different. Before, they believed the missing students were runaways. But when she disappeared… there was undeniable proof that it was due to kidnapping.”

Ouma’s heart ran cold upon hearing the word “kidnapping”. So, his intuition had been correct. All of those kids... despite having no ties to each other, they were all taken.

But for what reason?

“What happened?” he inquired, urging her to continue. Iruma seemed to get meeker and meeker as she went on. Her voice got low, as if telling a secret never before revealed to others.

“There were witnesses. People saw her being pushed into a strange van. People heard her screaming.”

Gokuhara suddenly slammed a fist on the table, causing the cups to shake and spill over.

“Damn it, if there were witnesses then why didn’t anyone do anything?!”

Iruma’s eyes got big, the ocean blues of her irises full of fear and worry.

“It, it happened, it happened so fast! They, they tried to help! One person called the police and someone else tried to get a plate, but there wasn’t one!”

Ouma’s brain was spinning. All of this information was being thrown at him all at once, and he couldn’t quite fit the pieces together. He held his forehead in one hand, pushing back some of his messy violet hair.

Suddenly, he realized something.

_Akamatsu-chan...?_

“Wait, Iruma… how do you know all of this?”

Iruma paused before answering. She had grabbed a napkin and was mopping up the little puddles of cappuccino Gokuhara’s outburst had left on the table.

“Because… Akamatsu-chan was my friend.”

“…What?”

The two boys exclaimed in unison. Iruma still refused to look up, but nevertheless she went on.

“We’ve known each other since childhood. Our families have always been close. We haven’t lived near each other in years, but we used to be neighbors. We tried to see each other as often as we could. If school and other obligations didn’t get in the way.”

Iruma smiled sadly as she reminisced.

“She was one of the most amazing people I’d ever known. She was always so happy and upbeat. I rarely ever heard her complain about anything. Everyone liked her. She was really popular at her school. And to top it off, she was a great piano player. Not a professional by any means, but her playing could move people. I always told her she’d end up playing at Carnegie Hall someday, but she never believed me.”

Iruma’s shoulders hunched over the table as she told her story. Tears threatened to stray from her eyes. Ouma felt sorry for her. He wanted to reach out, give her some form of comfort... but he couldn't bring himself to do so.

“Iruma… I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what it must have been like, losing a friend like that.”

She wiped her eyes with another napkin and continued.

“I was the last one that saw her that day. She came over to make lunch. Was going on and on about a new boyfriend of hers… said he was a detective of sorts. I never met him, but he sounded like a great guy. Knowing her, she wouldn’t date just anyone.”

“Wait, you’re not saying…”

She nodded.

“I think that guy you met in the alley, I think that was him.”

Ouma coiled back in disgust.

“Eugh! I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be with someone like Saihara!”

Gokuhara grunted in agreement.

“So that’s what he meant by that vague comment. He probably blames everyone that was involved with her case.”

Iruma chewed on the inside of her lip, deep in thought. She finally took a sip of the cappuccino.

“I wonder… that guy, maybe he was different before.”

A puzzled look came across Ouma's face.

“What do you mean?”

“People change when they experience something traumatic, Ouma. Sometimes in really horrible ways.”

Ouma frowned. He thought of Iida, how he had lost almost everything in the accident. How long it took for him to get used to his prosthetic body. How much he had worried that he wouldn’t be accepted. Yet, he hadn’t become cruel or heartless, even after the others had treated him like a monster. He swear it made him love him even more. He concluded that Saihara must have just been weak.

“Tell me, when did you first meet Saihara?”

Ouma thought back to that wretched day, when he had approached Saihara for the first time. He preferred to forget, but if Iruma thought it was important…

“Uhm, it was a little bit after Iida-chan’s accident. Maybe a few weeks. When the student council asked me to be interim president.”

“Akamatsu-chan had been missing for about a month then. Enough time for someone to lose their mind with worry.”

A thick silence fell between them. No one said anything for a while. Ouma hated it, hated the idea of empathizing with someone like Saihara... but he wondered, what would he have done if Iida had gone missing? Would he have lost his mind as well? A flurry of mixed feelings stirred within him, and the more he tried to define them, the more obscure they became. He worried what would become of them now.

He lifted his eyes to gaze at the two in front of him.

“Iruma-san, Gokuhara-san… do you think… we’re gonna be okay?”

“What do you mean?”

Ouma hugged himself, feeling his shoulders shudder every so often.

“I’m just… I’m… I’m scared. Of Saihara.”

Iruma pressed her lips together in thought. Gokuhara crossed his arms, leaning back in the uncomfortable wooden chair he was in.

“If that piece of shit tries anything I swear I’ll kill him.”

“I mean, he’s just a high schooler like us, right? I think the worst that will happen is him releasing the blackmail material.

Ouma cringed. The pictures of Iruma, the bugs in Gokuhara’s collection… they were all still in Saihara’s possession.

“But… what about your… your stuff?”

She finally raised her eyes to meet his gaze. Her expression was strong, albeit a little fearful. The eyes of someone who was ready to accept the consequences that were a long time coming.

“I think… I actually might just come clean. Tell my parents and teachers what I’ve been doing. They’ll probably be disappointed in me, but what can I do? I needed money and I needed money quick. It is what it is.”

Gokuhara sighed. He reached a hand behind his head to itch part of his neck.

“I’ve cut my losses already. I’ll just have to start from scratch. Whatever. Like Iruma said… it is what it is.”

Ouma held his head in shame.

“I’m so sorry for everything. This is all my fault..."

The two other students looked at each other, then back at him.

"We can't change what's happened in the past, Ouma-kun. That's something Akamatsu-chan taught me a long time ago. All we can do is look ahead to our future, and fight for it."

She took his cold hand in hers, smiling at him in forgiveness. Ouma wanted to cry; he didn't deserve it, after all he had done, he knew he was the last person who had earned her compassion. He did the only thing he could do in the moment, and squeezed her hand tightly. Sensing his inner conflict, she made a friendly suggestion.

“Why don’t we get out of here? The caffeine’s making me anxious.”

Ouma agreed.

“Yeah. I guess I should fill Iida-chan in on everything, too.”

The three of them made their way out, placing their used cups in the cleaning bin before exiting. They walked the streets together, ready to begin anew. Walking forward towards the future, not longer allowing themselves to linger on the past. Refusing to look back.

They failed to notice the unmarked van following them.

~

Iida stomped down the street, anger and annoyance pulsing through his veins.

How could Ouma just run off like that? Leaving him alone in his own house… having to explain to his parents why Iida was sleeping in his room, alone, with Ouma nowhere in sight. He didn’t mind covering for Ouma, but he at least wanted an excuse. Especially after what had happened last night.

Iida wondered if he was truly ready to be honest with him on that level.

Maybe it was too much to ask of him. They both had been through a lot these past few months. The timing wasn’t necessarily the best. Perhaps Iida’s expectations were too high. He felt himself calm down, although a new feeling of melancholy soon overtook him.

He finally reached his own house. The lights were off, and there was no sign of anyone at home. He figured his father had gone into the lab to work.

He pulled out his keys and went to unlock the door, but he discovered that it was already open.

Strange…

He pushed through, looking around for any signs of burglars.

“Dad?”

He stepped inside. No sign of his father anywhere. It was eerily quiet.

“Hello? Dad, I’m home!”

No answer.

He climbed the stairs, one at a time, listening to the creaks and moans of the plywood.

“Daaaaaaad?”

He froze when he reached the top.

There was his father, lying face down on the floor. Unmoving.

“DAD!!!”

He immediately went to his side, checking for breathing. His chest fell up in down in a slow, almost rhythmic pattern. Good. He was still alive. He just had to call an ambulance-

“Iidabashi.”

An unfamiliar voice rang through the darkness. Feminine in nature, dripping with malice. Iida snapped up and yelped, rotating his head left and right in search of its source. The hallway was dark, he couldn't see anything even with his improved vision.

“… Who are you? Get away!!”

Soft footsteps pitter-pattered on the carpet.

“A real life android. My, my. The possibilities are endless with you.”

A figure emerged, wielding an ominous weapon. It buzzed with electricity surges. Iida’s eyes widened in fear.

“No… no!! NOOOO!!!”

She moved towards him. He caught a flash of turquoise hair, the glare of reading glasses, but that was all he could perceive before the taser made contact with his chest plate.

Painful shockwaves coursed through Iida’s body, and then…

Black.


	9. You can't escape your fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas sorry i died temporarily fhkjfhdkj
> 
> content warning for bullying/violence, kidnapping, and disturbing shit in general
> 
> we're almost done, folks

_Iida solemnly made his way to school as usual. It was a day just like any other, spent in solitude and brooding loneliness. He didn’t mind anymore; it was better than being surrounded by fake people who just made fun of him behind his back. He was aware of the rumors about him; they said he was born without a heart, that his eyes were cold and unfeeling because he lacked a soul, and that making eye contact with him would allow him to steal a person’s emotions. They were hurtful and always had been, but he was in junior high now and refused to let the words of others affect him any longer. He locked his feelings away, only showing them with those he was close with. Which, at the moment, only happened to be his father._

_Perhaps that was why he came off as inhuman._

_He walked alone, carrying a heavy backpack that felt like bricks. His shoulders ached, but it wouldn’t be long before he reached his destination. He trudged onwards, absorbed in his own solitude, when he passed by an alleyway and heard a discerning sound. He stopped to listen, recognizing a voice as one of his peers from homeroom, along with a sad whimper akin to a wounded puppy._

_“What a pathetic piece of shit. Can’t you even fight back?”_

_There was no response. Iida heard a low moan, then a harsh smack and another high-pitched cry._

_“Get up and fight like a man! Worthless scum!”_

_There was a thump that sounded like someone kicking a sack of rice. He peeked around the corner just in time to witness his classmate Harukawa stomping her combat boot on top of a young boy curled up on the concrete. He was tiny and frail and had the appearance of an elementary school student, although he donned the same navy uniform that Iida was wearing. His dark, violet hair clung to his face, obscuring his features. He was trembling, and he could hear him groaning in pain even from a distance._

_Iida felt his heart pumping wildly in his chest, threatening to break out. He couldn’t sit back any longer. He had to do something. He stepped into the alley and called out in a commandeering voice that was loud enough to echo against the stone walls._

_“That’s **enough**.”_

_The brunette snapped her neck around and glared at him with crimson colored eyes. She frowned, clenching her fists at her sides._

_“What the hell are you looking at, brown-noser?”_

_Iida didn’t let her insults sway him. He’d known Harukawa for years and was no stranger to her rotten attitude and unpleasant demeanor. He kept his posture tall and held his head high, refusing to back down._

_“Battery is a serious crime, Harukawa-san.”_

_“Who’s gonna tell?” She sneered back._

_“I am. I’m certain your parents wouldn’t be pleased to find out their only daughter is nothing but a bully and a ruff-”_

_She was at his throat before he could finish his sentence. His head slammed back onto the brick wall, dazing him for a moment before he regained his senses. Two hands clutched his shirt collar as her eyes bore holes into his skull. Yet he felt no fear or animosity. Only pity for the girl who could only express herself through violence._

_“Don’t you dare get my parents involved! Or I’ll…I’ll…!”_

_Despite her rough exterior, Iida sensed the desperation in her voice. Harukawa liked to present herself as a coldblooded deviant, but he knew she had a soft spot for her adopted parents. She would have done anything to prevent them from learning the ugly truth._

_“Unhand me.”_

_She pondered his command before finally relinquishing her grip after several long seconds. Her eyes never left Iida’s, and his didn’t falter._

_“If I see you near this boy again,” Iida stated cooly, “I won’t hesitate to report you to the highest authorities. Now leave before I call the police.”_

_Iida didn’t break his gaze, staring directly into her eyes until she finally looked away in shame. She said nothing at first, then suddenly grabbed her discarded bag and hastily made her exit. When the coast was clear he went to the boy’s side and knelt down, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder._

_“Hey. Are you okay?”_

_The boy wheezed, clutching his stomach as he stayed curled in a fetal position. Iida tenderly brushed the bangs from his eyes and noticed a few indigo bruises on his forehead. Cherry red blood seeped from gashes on his cheeks. Anger bubbled in his chest towards Harukawa, but he suppressed it. As he always did._

_“Hey. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll get an infection if you don’t do anything about those cuts.”_

_The boy opened his eyes, and Iida’s breath stilled at the sight. Those lilac-colored irises stirred feelings within him that he didn’t think existed. He held his breath, forgetting to exhale for a moment as he took in the boy’s features. His stringy, mop-like hair. His round cheeks puffy from tears and abuse. But what stole his heart were those eyes, the ones that held the same loneliness Iida recognized in himself._

_He felt a sudden urge to protect him, a feeling he’d never experienced before._

_Maybe he was human after all._

_“Who… who are you?” The battered boy squeaked out in a timid manner._

_“Iidabashi Kino,” Iida said matter-of-factly. “But I prefer to be called Iida. What’s your name?”_

_The boy looked down for a moment, then back up to meet Iida’s gaze._

_“Ouma… Ouma Kokichi.”_

_“Ouma Kokichi. Are you alright? Can you stand?”_

_“Yeah… I think so…”_

_Iida helped the injured boy to his feet, taking care not to grab his arms or shoulders too hard lest he puncture any wounds. The two of them walked together, Ouma leaning on Iida’s shoulder as he supported him._

_“Th… thank you… Iida-san…”_

_Ouma refused to make eye contact, staring down at his feet with a dejected expression. An uncomfortable silence fell between them, until Iida broke through with small talk._

_“I see that you also attend my school, but I’ve never seen you before. Are you new?”_

_Ouma nodded, taking small steps as he focused on keeping his balance._

_“Just moved here a week ago… today’s my first day…”_

_“What class are you in?”_

_“11-B.”_

_“Oh, we have the same homeroom,” Iida said, the first hint of a smile forming on his face. “Perhaps it’s a good thing we ran into each other. I’m class president, so I can show you around if you’d like.”_

_Ouma stopped dead in his tracks, almost causing Iida to stumble and fall over. His eyes were wide with wonder and sadness. He looked a complete mess with his disheveled hair and budding bruises, yet Iida couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at the sight._

_“You, you really want to… associate with me? After what you saw?”_

_Iida nodded, letting his smile grow and hoping it didn’t look too artificial._

_“You’re not the only one who’s been victim to Harukawa’s temper.”_

_“Then… maybe… could we be friends?”_

_Ouma clung to his arm, staring up at him with the most innocent and heartfelt look on his face. And for the first time in his life, Iida felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. He tripped over his next words clumsily, searching for the proper thing to say._

_“Uh, um, well, of course! It’s my duty as class president to be on good terms with-“_

_He was promptly cut off when Ouma lurched forward, wrapping him in a tight embrace. The heat in his face seeped down his neck; never had he been touched in such an intimate way by anyone other than his family members. He stood there awkwardly, hands in the air, unsure of where to put them until finally, finally he rested them on Ouma’s head._

_They stayed there for a while until Ouma broke the awkward silence._

_“Hey, Iida-kun?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Can I… can I hold your hand?”_

~~~

Iida woke up with a distant memory in his mind, fading away like a dream that toed the line between fantasy and reality. Still tiptoeing between asleep and awake, he wondered why that day had come to mind after all these years. His mind wrestled with itself, desperately clinging to the state of sleep, until searing pain forced him back into consciousness.

His body tingled with a dull ache, and his head throbbed in steady, unpredictable rhythms. He tried to remember how he got there and what he was doing before, but his memory only came back in bits and pieces. He recalled seeing Ouma, then going back home, and then…

He popped his head up, his eyes finally adjusting to the lack of light, and looked around. He was in a desolate place, void of creature comforts. It appeared to be a cell of sorts, the only light coming from a window about fifteen feet above him. There were sturdy metal bars blocking him from freedom, and it dawned on him what kind of situation he was in. His heart, or whatever mechanism inside that was keeping him alive, threatened to pound through his chest plates.

It wasn’t long before he was greeted by a sickly-sweet voice.

“You’re finally awake. It’s time for you to join the others.”

A girl appeared in front of the bars, one who was around the same age as him. She had a dark, ominous aura around her that made Iida’s hair stand on end.

“Who are you?! What the hell is going on?!”

He grabbed the bars and shook them in a weak attempt to break through. The girl just giggled coyly.

“All fantastic questions that will be answered in due time. For now, I believe there’s someone you’d like to see?”

“… What?”

She pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the cell, spreading her arms as she waited for him to come out. He gingerly took a few steps out, then was subsequently grabbed by two henchmen he’d failed to detect.

He let himself be lead down the stark white hallway with the two sturdy guards clutching his arms in a steel grip. The navy haired girl led the way, through deserted hallways and around sharp corners until finally they reached their destination. The door they were in front of was something he’d never seen before and looked like it was straight out of a sci-fi movie. There was a security pad on the left, with a variety of wheels and screws that ensured no unauthorized person would get in or out. She typed a long code on the pad, and the door promptly opened.

When Iida saw what was inside, he felt himself pale and what was left of his blood run cold.

Fourteen chairs were arranged in a circle, most of which were occupied by young teens who were strapped to the arms and legs in a cruel, inescapable manner. Iida recognized some of their faces from the missing posters that hung around town: the blonde-haired girl with friendly pink eyes, the boy with long hair that wore lipstick, the dark-skinned foreigner from the arts specialty school, the boy who was barely over three feet tall yet one of the top tennis players in the juniors division. There were also some he didn’t recognize, and not all the chairs were occupied. None of the occupants were conscious. 

“What… what… what is…”

And then, smack dab in the middle, was Ouma. Lying sprawled out on the floor, unmoving.

“Ouma! OUMA! OUMAAAAAAAAAAAA!!”

Iida’s cries boomed through the room as he lurched forward, reaching out a metallic hand towards his friend. He was subsequently yanked backwards and held down by the brutes who dragged him in. The girl chuckled menacingly behind him.

“Congratulations, Iidabashi. You and your friends have been selected to participate in Danganronpa’s 53rd killing game.”

“What? What are you talking about? Danganronpa… killing game… what is… who…”

“The other specimens should be ready by now,” she continued, ignoring his blabbering. “Will someone be so kind as to bring them in?”

Not a second passed before two unseen doors burst open on either side. Three henchmen entered, dragging their bound victims in and tossing them in the center unceremoniously. Each of them screamed through their gags, struggling vigorously with their arms and legs tied tightly behind them.

Iida froze in place.

“Iruma… Gokuhara… Harukawa…?”

“My name is Shirogane Tsumugi,” the girl behind him stated, walking towards the frantic students before her. “And I have total creative freedom with the script this season.”

She seized Iruma’s chin and pulled it towards her, smiling evilly as tears formed in the blonde girl’s eyes.

“I saw the pictures you took, Iruma-san,” Shirogane crooned gleefully. “You’ll be this season’s sex symbol. AKA, the slut.”

Iruma squeezed her eyes shut and squirmed out of her grasp as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Shirogane moved towards Gokuhara, whose eyes shot daggers at her.

“You, Gokuhara, shall be the village idiot,” she cocked her head to the side. “Brute strength, little brain. A Tarzan-type character. Revolutionary, don’t you think?”

He snarled at her like a wild animal, hurling insults that were lost behind the gag. Shirogane just laughed joyfully, moving on to Harukawa.

“Ah, and you,” she began, not daring to go any closer towards the red-eyed girl who looked like she was ready to kill on the spot. “I have your tragic backstory prepared. A poor little orphan girl turned assassin. I think that role fits you _perfectly_.”

Harukawa made no noise, her eyes never moving away from Shirogane. The navy haired girl turned around to face Iida once more.

“And you… Iidabashi Kino… after we’ve successfully lobotomized you, the AI we install will act as a receptor. I’m introducing audience participation this season, a totally new concept that’s sure to bring despair to all!”

Iida recoiled in disgust as he watched Shirogane’s eyes roll back in ecstasy. Drool dripped from the corner of her mouth as her eyes went cloudy. He fought as hard as he could to get out of the hold, but even with his prosthetic limbs he wasn’t strong enough to break free. Pressure burned at the back of his eyes, but tears refused to fall.

“Please…” He spoke with an awful tremor. “Why are you doing this? We’re just normal high school students… why us?!”

Shirogane’s eyes suddenly went dark as she said her next words.

“Because we can. Because we want to. Because we have the means.”

The room fell silent. A cold breeze drifted from seemingly nowhere, chilling Iida to the core.

“Our less than noble audience has tastes that go beyond what society deems ‘normal’ and ‘moral’. Is it right to shun them simply because they have eclectic tastes?”

Iida said nothing. He fell to his knees in disbelief, helpless to whatever was in store for him and the others.

He felt his hope slowly dissolving until there was nothing left but deep, gnawing despair.


	10. Your story ends here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has followed this story, left comments and kudos, and stuck with me through my hiatus. I've learned and grown a lot as an author; to think this began as a little fluff drabble and turned into a 10 chapter fic! I had no idea it would spiral into something of this caliber, but it's been a fun ride nonetheless. I have a lot of mixed feelings about what this became, but it's something I've learned to be proud of despite the mistakes and errors I've made along the way. Again, thank you for all the support.
> 
> I'll see you all in therapy.

Iida watched hopelessly as his friends, and his beloved, were dragged away to their horrific fates. His vacant eyes stared onward, observing the scene as they struggled and cried for help in a state of disbelief and futility, knowing their efforts were all in vain. Perhaps he would have done the same if there had been any chance for escape, but the deadbolt locks on the doors and the impossible maze of hallways made him push away any lingering thoughts of freedom. He knew in his heart that he couldn’t stop the nightmare unfolding before him any more than he could stop himself from succumbing to his misery.

He didn’t bother fighting back when the guards lifted him to his feet and dragged through the desolate hallways with incandescent lighting that made his eyelids flutter shut. As they made their way through the labyrinth that was the Danganronpa headquarters, he heard a despairing voice echo off the concrete walls.

“Where’s Kaede? Where is she?! LET HER GO!”

He caught a flash of navy hair as the frantic boy who it belonged to fought viciously against his captives, who held each of his limbs and twisted them in unnatural directions. He shrieked in agony with each movement, but refused to back down.

“You know as well as I do that we absolutely cannot do that. She is ours now.”

That same feminine voice that belonged to who he'd come to know as Shirogane rang out. Iida tuned in more closely.

“No, no, you said... You said you would let her go if I turned them in! YOU PROMISED!!”

Iida's heart dropped to his stomach at the sound of his cries.

“Saihara, please calm yourself or we will be forced to take drastic measures…”

“KAEDE!!! Kaede, please! No, no, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The horrific screech filled the hallway as Iida was led around another corner, losing sight of the scene completely. He caught the tail end right as the guards led him through another tightly locked door.

“Sedate him and bring him to the re-education room. He’ll be our last participant.”

Perhaps if he had been more cognizant, he would’ve registered that tidbit of an interaction as something worth investigating further. But in his current state, there was little more he could do than be an unwilling witness to another monstrosity committed by this mysterious organization.

They tossed him carelessly back into his cell without a second thought. He laid on the floor dejectedly as he felt his mind leave his mechanized body and float towards the ceiling, his only method of coping with his dreadful reality. He sat there unmoving until time felt numb, only snapping back to the physical world when he heard a velvet voice ring out from the darkness.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Iida lifted his eyes to see who had addressed him but saw nothing in the forlorn prison that would likely be his final resting ground. He thought he had finally lost it. He laid his head back on the stone floor and closed his eyes.

“Hey. Your name is Iidabashi, right?”

The voice was much closer, and Iida’s eyes shot open upon hearing his own name. Leaning over him was another young boy, about the same age as him, with chartreuse colored hair and round bedroom eyes that dripped with warmth and kindness.

“—AH!”

Startled, he jumped backwards and moved away from the unexpected stranger.

“Who… who are you? Why are you here? Are you from Team Danganronpa, too?”

The boy chuckled weakly, running a hand adorned with silver and gold rings through his messy hair.

“We’re both locked up here, so I think it’s logical to assume I’m in the same position as you.”

Iida, feeling a bit foolish, furrowed his brows and pouted childishly.

“Fair enough. Tell me your name, then.”

The boy shifted into a cross-legged position before answering.

“Amami. Amami Rantaro. At least, that’s the name they gave me. I think.”

Iida gave him a puzzled look.

“What do you mean by that? How do you not know your name?”

Amami sighed, looking down at the ground as he twirled one of the rings he was wearing between his index and thumb.

“Team Danganronpa. They do this to all of their ‘participants’. They go in your brain, stir it up, mix and match all the things they like and dislike about your personality. Editing and deleting what they deem fit until they’re satisfied. And by the time they’re finished, you’re a fragment of who you were before.”

He looked up and gave Iida a weak smile.

“Forgive me if I seem a bit scatter brained. That’s the reason why.”

Iida’s mouth dropped open as his mind raced with all kinds of unpleasant explanations for Amami’s current state.

“My god… What did they do to you?”

Amami shrugged his shoulders, looking through Iida at a non-descript spot on the wall behind him.

“I wish I could tell you. I’ve been here for a long time, but my life before Danganronpa is nothing but a black wall. I’ve had my memories wiped and restored so many times, everything’s all swirled up. I can’t distinguish between killing game memories and real world memories anymore.”

Iida felt a twinge of pain surge through his heart for Amami. He couldn’t imagine what kind of horrors he’d been through, or what was in store for himself.

“Amami… What the hell is Danganronpa? Who are these people?”

The boy glanced around before scooting closer. He leaned in and spoke in a hushed voice as if to avoid detection from the wrong ears.

“From what I’ve gathered, it’s an underground TV show funded by anonymous donors. It’s only streamed in the deepest parts of the Dark Web, and they charge a hefty price from their viewers. The people who watch it are sick fucks that get off on watching kids die in horrible ways. I don’t know who’s in charge, but I know that they are very, _very_ dangerous. They have a lot of money and influence, which is why they haven’t been caught for 53 seasons.”

The more Amami rambled on, the more Iida failed to understand. What he was saying absolutely, undeniably preposterous, but after meeting that Shirogane girl himself he figured anything was possible by this point.

“But… why? Why us? Why the hell did they target a bunch of random high school students?”

Amami let out another deep exhale, his shoulders heavy with desolation and anguish.

“I don’t know. I ask myself that every day.”

Iida paused for a moment, replaying the day’s events in his mind and puzzling over any possibilities of a different outcome. The more his mind whirred, the less answers he came to. Defeatedly, he looked back at Amami with desperation in his eyes.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

Amami shook his head solemnly.

“I’ve tried… believe me… but this place is on lockdown. There’s no getting in or out unless you’re authorized. And the only one I’ve seen come and go freely is that Shirogane girl.”

Iida felt a cold chill run up his spine once that name fell on his ears.

“She gives me the creeps.”

“Yeah. I’ll say.”

Amami let out another weak laugh before falling silent. His eyes looked pained and sullen, so Iida decided to leave it at that for the time being. He pushed his back against the cold wall, bowing his head between his knees and praying he’d find relief in the form of unconsciousness soon.

Time beat by slowly and aimlessly, and, at last, he drifted off to sleep.

~~

He was wrestled awake by the sound of clinking metal.

An unpleasant squishing noise was what riled him from his fetal position. He shot up just in time to see Amami on the other side of the now-open cell door, crimson blood pouring out from a deep gash in his head. Two guards lay unconscious on either side of him. His eyes were wild and crazed as he called out to the android.

“Iida… go…”

Iida blinked in disbelief. He froze in place, his limbs disobeying his mind’s commands to flee.

“RUN, Iida! _GET OUT OF HERE!_ **_GO!!!_** _”_

The distress in Amami’s typically cool tone of voice snapped him out of his terror induced delusion. Not another second passed before he high tailed it out of the cell and into the bleak white hallways. His feet moved before his thoughts could catch up, bolting left and right as his eyes darted from door to door. Searching for something. Searching for someone. He knew running was futile, that escape was out of his reach, but there was one last thing he needed to do before he surrendered to his fate…

He looked through the bleary glass windows that peered into the hospital-like rooms of the building as he passed each door. He lost count of how many rooms he passed, his only focus was the objective in his mind. Finally, after running for what felt like days, a flash of eggplant-colored hair appeared in one of the rectangular windows. It didn’t take much for him to break down the door, against all odds and reason.

Iida looked on in horror at the sight before him. Ouma was chained by the wrists and ankles to a makeshift bed, his skull encased in a thick metal headset that whirred and buzzed as his eyes flapped back and forth behind closed lids. Tiny wires were embedded in his skin, attached to a strange monitor beside the bed. He dashed to the side of his dear friend and knelt down until his face was close enough to smell the sickly-sweet breath that came from his peachy pink lips.

“Ouma! Oh god… Ouma! Ouma, wake up, please!”

The shorter boy didn’t budge. The monitor beeped in a steady pattern, its speed neither increasing nor decreasing. His headgear glowed faintly with blue and green lights, and the wires in his skin moved up and down in time with his breath. In this state he looked like a doll, his skin smooth as porcelain and his expression free of tension. Iida held his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks tenderly, as if he held the world within them.

“Ouma… there’s no way out of here. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I really failed you this time, huh?”

He detected rapid footsteps in the halls within close distance. There was little time left. It didn’t matter if he was caught now. He’d done what he came to do. Holding Ouma in his hands one last time, before Team Danganronpa stole his identity away and made a monster of him.

“I don’t know if you can hear me… we don’t have much time left together… I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I’m sorry I was so cold. I’m sorry I said that thing about having peace and quiet. I’m sorry I didn’t notice your feelings sooner…”

Iida took his limp, pale hand in his and squeezed it tightly.

“And I’m sorry I didn’t hold your hand.”

Iida felt the back of his eyes burning. He wished, he prayed, he begged for god for let him cry, just this once, but as always nothing came of it. He brought Ouma’s hand to his lips and planted a fluttery kiss on his translucent skin.

“No matter what happens, I swear to god I won’t forget you. No matter what they do to me. No matter if they scrape out my brain and replace it with some AI program. I’m going to find you, and I’ll protect you. Even if it kills me.”

Loud banging was heard from outside the room, but Iida didn’t move. With watery eyes, he continued speaking.

“I gotta go now. Come find me when this is all said and done, okay? I’ll be your friend. I’ll always be your friend. I’ll even be more if that’s what you want. But-” – he stopped to bite his lip from quivering – “Fuck, don’t forget about me, okay?! I won’t forget you, Ouma! I’ll always remember you! I love you-”

The door burst open, and Iida’s monologue was cut short by a thousand electric surges that coursed through his mechanized body. He fell face down and was subsequently dragged backwards by unseen hands. His eyes stayed focused on Ouma.

Then, right before he was out of range, he heard a soft whisper reverberate across the room.

“…Iida?”

Iida lifted his head and saw Ouma's face turned toward him, gazing at him with dreary lilac eyes.

“Ouma? Ouma! OUMAAAAAA!”

Ouma’s face contorted into a crestfallen frown. He let out a gut-wrenching cry Iida wished he had never heard.

“Iida! Iida-chan… Iida-chaaaaan! I lov-!”

The door slammed shut. Iida’s outstretched hand grasped at air. Pressure burned the backs of his eyes, pushing against the plastic barriers until he felt something, _something_ break through.

The tear dripped down his face and onto the floor as the last surge rippled through him, rendering him unconscious.

It was the last time he would know himself as Iidabashi.

~~~

“Awaken.”

The eyes of the android fluttered open once the command reached his audio input. Bright neon blue eyes stared out in the expanse of space as the body of the robot stayed rigid as if in military form. A lone girl stood before him, donned in a white lab coat and round framed glasses that only accentuated her plain features.

“K1-b0, in operation,” The machine blurted out. “How may I assist you?”

“Hello, K1-b0. Welcome to Team Danganronpa. I’m Shirogane, and I’ll be supervising your processes.”

Kiibo bowed his head slightly to show his respect.

“Shirogane-san. Please, call me Kiibo.”

She smiled, venom dripping from her pasty lips.

“Very well, Kiibo. Please give a report on the state of your vital functions.”

Kiibo’s eyes glazed over as he quickly assessed his current state.

“All of my software is functioning at 99.8%. Although there is a disturbance detected in my AI’s amygdala.”

Shirogane flinched upon hearing the news, gritting her teeth as she frowned.

“Oh? Please explain the problem. Perhaps there is an easy fix.”

Kiibo put a hand to his chest as if searching for a heartbeat. He scanned his artificial limbic system in search of answers and spoke after a few short seconds.

“I feel… a certain heaviness in my heart that I cannot put into words. There is a strong feeling of longing and sadness deep within. As if there is something, or someone, I’m missing. I’m not certain of the cause.”

He glanced at her with curiosity, one question lingering on his lips.

"Can you explain this, Shirogane-san?"

The girl pondered the situation before scribbling a few things on her notepad. She looked up, her face showing nothing but emptiness.

“It sounds like we still have some tweaking to do with your AI. It shouldn’t take much longer, but this is a bit of an inconvenience.”

She approached the robot and glided her hands over the metal plates that lined his chest. He made no reaction to the touch.

“Don’t worry, Kiibo. We’ll erase those pesky feelings. And once we do, the show will begin.”

The robot’s expression was unchanging as he was shut down and brought back to the lab.


End file.
